


Heroes One and All

by TheRealDanniX



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Beta Read, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX
Summary: Based on Superhero/flatmate headcanons from witchersjaskier on Tumblr.Jaskier and Geralt are flatmates and superheroes. This is the story of their discovering each other's secrets and love.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 169





	Heroes One and All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WinterLadyy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterLadyy/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this. I had fun writing it. 
> 
> Drop a comment or Kudos and let me know what y'all think!

_Jaskier:_

Jaskier was quiet as he slipped into his flat, praying he was discreet enough to escape his flatmate’s notice. It was a blessing that the door to the other bedroom stayed firmly shut, even when he bumped the table and sent a cup tumbling over. Normally it wouldn’t matter that he was coming in late, but tonight… Well, tonight Jaskier had to get blood out of his clothes and he didn’t need Geralt knowing that. Graciously, very little of it was his blood. He stayed out of the fights, thank you very much. His champions would do that for him. No, the blood belonged to his partner that evening. Another hero called the Witcher. Jaskier had only seen the Witcher from a distance before. That night, fighting side by side with him was incredible. With Golden eyes and superhuman strength and reflexes, the man was gorgeous in a fight. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the same buffer from injury that Jaskier had. He did his fighting himself. That means that he took the brunt of what the damn Wargs dealt out. Jaskier hated the Wargs. Why they couldn’t keep the little motorcycle gang in one stupid bar like other motorcycle gangs, he would never understand. Jaskier slipped into the bathroom, quickly shedding his costume and washing the blood out of his hair. He’d take a real shower in the morning before his meeting. Right now, he just wanted to sleep.

_Geralt:_

Jaskier wasn’t home when Geralt had stumbled into his room and locked his door. He was just happy he hadn’t trailed blood in like he thought he would. That was mostly thanks to the Bard refusing to leave before wrapping bandages over the bigger wounds. Geralt hadn’t been able to really stop him since all the Bard had to do was sing to him and he was stuck. He didn’t care much for the other hero. Their powers were far too removed from the actual fighting to be any good in close quarters like Geralt often was. And their singing was loud and twisting. It had to be to mess with reality the way they did. Or maybe they did it on purpose. It didn’t really matter. He preferred Jaskier’s singing anyway. It was smooth and beautiful and calming. But he’s biased.

Geralt stumbled to his bed, still in his armor and weapons, and collapsed. He was still armed and bloody when his alarm went off the next day. It was a good thing that Jaskier had an early meeting. He forced himself out of bed and to the bathroom he shared with his flatmate, shedding armor as he went. He checked his wounds, but they were mostly gone, thanks mostly to his quick healing and a little to the Bard’s help. He found his mind wandering to the other hero. It was strange. Most people, heroes and police included, avoided him as the Witcher. The Bard hadn’t. They’d actually stopped to help in the fight if singing allies into existence counted as helping anyways. The Bard hadn’t swung a weapon or fist. Just strummed his instrument and sang in that twisted voice. Geralt had tried to identify the other person afterward while they were wrapping his wounds, but there was nothing he could make out clearly. It must have had something to do with the Bard’s reality twisting, but it seemed like the hero’s face and body changed with every moment. He couldn’t even tell if it was a girl or a boy humming at him and his injuries. Geralt shook it off. It was just a fluke. No idiot would be willing to work with someone like the Witcher. Not with his history. It wouldn’t happen again. Geralt washed the blood off being careful to leave no trace for Jaskier to find. Then he got dressed and went to work at his bookshop. Jaskier would join him after his meeting and complain a bit before going to his own job after lunch. Normally, they would head to the bookshop together in the mornings. It was the best part of Geralt’s day.

_Jaskier:_

After his meeting, Jaskier sprinted to Kaer Morhen, Geralt’s bookshop, unable to contain himself. He did manage to pull himself back enough that his powers were only fiddling with the colors of his clothes before he burst into the shop. “Geralt!” he exclaimed, beaming as the other man jumped. Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. His dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail with a few loose hairs dangling in his face from where he’d been hunched over a book at the counter. His green eyes glinting was the only indication that he was happy to see Jaskier as the musician sat down on his counter. “You will never believe what just happened.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said. It was his form of greeting. He closed his book sat back in the tall legged chair he had behind the counter. Jaskier swung his legs around so that he was looking at his friend.

“So you know how I had a meeting with Yenna this morning, right? Well, she told me that a record company was interested in that demo I made last month. They want me to make an album with them! Yenna said she got it worked out so that I could start as soon as next week. How absolutely incredible is that? Geralt, I’m making an album! A real, honest to god album.”

“That’s incredible Jaskier,” Geralt said. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was practically beaming.

“Isn’t it?” Jaskier sighed. He slid off the counter and fell into the beanbag he had placed beside Geralt’s chair. “I’ve finally got my break. I can’t believe it’s happening!” Jaskier sighed again. He noticed that his shirt was suddenly blue, instead of the pink it had been when he had left their flat. Oh well. He could probably keep it some shade of blue if he focused on it. Last time he got this excited he’d accidentally turned one of his guitars into a lute while he was playing for Yenna. She had laughed at him, but he’d refused to change it back. The lute was perfect for when he was The Bard. It was smaller and lighter than his guitars. That was when Yenna had agreed to be his agent and gotten him his job at her bar. Jaskier let himself ramble on about Yenna and her generosity until his phone alarm went off at noon. “And it’s not just because we grew up together. Fuck you Geralt.” He cut himself off at the alarm. “Oh well, my friend. That’s my cue.” Jaskier flashed his friend another bright smile. “Come by when you get off.” Jaskier didn’t have to ask. They both knew that Geralt would come by the bar where he was playing for a little while. He always did.

“I’ll see you later Jaskier,” Geralt said, rolling his eyes.

“Later Geralt!” Jaskier jumped over the counter again and headed down the street to Yenna’s bar. He waved at the bartender, Triss, as he crashed through the doors.

“Jaskier!” Triss called. “Yenna left a message for you!”

Jaskier leaned against the bar. “Really? Why didn’t she just call me?”

Triss shrugged. “She said that you’re gonna be playing shorter sets from now on and that she doesn’t want you to start until the dinner rush today.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do until then?” Jaskier sighed.

“She said she left you a gift to pass the time. It’s in the green room.” Triss pointed to the small office that Yenna had let Jaskier use as a staging area before performances. Most of the staff had taken to calling it the green room since Yenna was hardly ever there these days. After all, this was one of several successful clubs that she owned. She had to divide her time. That was part of the reason why she had retired from hero work. That and Triss had given her an ultimatum.

“Thanks, Triss,” Jaskier said. He slipped into the green room to see a new guitar case with a note taped to it.

_“Jask, get composing-Yen”_ He tucked the note in his pocket and retrieved his notebook from Yenna’s safe. Then he sat down and did as instructed writing about golden eyes, white hair, and silver swords. When the time came, he set aside his notebook and went to play for his adoring crowd. Geralt showed up halfway through his first set, nodding at him from behind his beer. Jaskier wanted to go talk to him once his set was over, but he was gone by then. Ah well. It happened like that most nights. Geralt had a thing about crowds and Jaskier could draw a crowd, even on a Wednesday night. Jaskier had wanted to do another set, but alas, duty called. He sent Yen a text before slipping off into the alley.

_Geralt:_

It happened again. That dam Bard was there again. This time is was The Sirens. The Bard seemed to find their song magic particularly insulting because they actually cracked one over the head with that ridiculous instrument they were carrying. Geralt had dispatched the other two easily, and just stared at the other hero over the bodies of the Sirens. _“Weren’t you hurt?”_ The Bard asked. It wasn’t talking but it wasn’t singing either. It was like a thousand people were talking at once mixed with hundreds of different instruments. Geralt grunted in response. It was late. He needed to get home before Jaskier finished his sets. The Witcher turned to leave, but the Bard grabbed him. _“You should try not to pick a fight when you’re already hurt.”_

“Fuck off, Bard,” Geralt snapped, pulling out of his grip. The other hero just shrugged and sang something in that twisted way they sang to create allies with. A bike formed out of the ground beside them, looking like it was made out of moonlight.

_“Until next time, Witcher,”_ the Bard chuckled. They drove off into the night with a shifting smile on their face. Geralt let out an angry breath before jogging back to his car. He shed his armor and swords, tucking them safely in the trunk. Then he drove back to his flat. Jaskier wasn’t there yet, and Geralt fell onto the couch, snatching up a book from the shelf next to it. He kept his phone close, in case the Witcher’s night wasn’t over. Jaskier came home half an hour later, nearly glowing with the air of successful performance.

“Ah, Geralt!” Jaskier exclaimed plopping down on the couch beside him. He draped an arm around Geralt, leaning against him. “You were in and out quick tonight. Busy day?” Jaskier’s blue eyes were full of concern. Geralt shrugged. “All right then. Well, in that case, you can pretend to keep reading your book while I watch the Bachelor I recorded on Monday.”

“I don’t pretend to read,” Geralt grumbled. He didn’t stop Jaskier from reaching across him to grab the remote though, and that made Jaskier grin.

“Of course,” Jaskier drawled. “And you have no idea who went home last week, nor do you know anything about any of my other shows. Just as I surely don’t wear make-up when I perform.” That was a lie. Jaskier wore make-up most of the time. Not just when performing. It was very distracting and made it very hard for Geralt to keep his eyes off him. He supposed that was the point. “Now stop your boorish grunts of protest.” Jaskier turned to the screen letting his head fall as he started his show. They stayed there until it was late. Jaskier picking the shows and providing commentary. Geralt pretending to read but listening to every word. Jaskier fell asleep at around two in the morning, and Geralt carried him to his room.

“Goodnight Jaskier,” he muttered as he laid the musician in his bed and pulled a blanket over him. All relaxed, brown hair messy, and without any hint of make-up, Jaskier was the most beautiful person in the world. Geralt let himself smile at his flatmate. This was the version of Jaskier that was all his. Not the perfect, put-together person he was on stage. He was beautiful then too. But here, snoring and drooling, that was a beauty just for Geralt. At least for now. Geralt went back to his own room and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Jaskier.

_Jaskier:_

It was becoming a thing. Every time Jaskier went out as the Bard, he was with The Witcher. At first, he really wasn’t trying to find the other, but they kept meeting. Kept fighting with each other, and Jaskier found himself enamored with him. He started trying to meet up. Picking calls that fit the Witcher’s MO. When he had a night off from the bar, he’d watch for The Witcher. Half the time, Jaskier wasn’t really needed in the fight. Not even his champions. The Witcher was a capable hero. He could take care of most of the calls on his own, but Jaskier didn’t mind. He could still help. He was very good at getting the innocents out of the area so that the Golden-eyed man didn’t have to worry about that and could focus on taking down whatever villain they were facing. Besides, it gave Jaskier a very good excuse to watch the Witcher work. 

It was great for his songwriting too, according to Yenna. He’d shown her two of the songs he’d written for the new album, both of them inspired by The Witcher. She'd gotten that look on her face. The same look she had when he had told her about his music career. It was the look she got when she was planning something big. And when Yenna makes a plan, well, Jaskier’s learned you can bet on it happening. It took six months to finish writing enough songs for an album. Six glorious months of following the Witcher. That was all it took for him to fall in love. That was all it took to convince the record company they’d made a good choice. The day before the album officially launched, Yenna cornered him.

“Jaskier,” she said. Her violet eyes burned into him. “First, fix your shirt. It’s supposed to be blue, like your eyes not yellow. I should know. I bought it for you. Second, we need to talk about the Bard.”

“You want me to stop, don’t you?” Jaskier sighed.

“I couldn’t make you stop if I tried. I wouldn’t.”

“Because it’s such wonderful inspiration?”

“Because I know you Jask. You aren’t like me. You can’t just leave the hero crap behind now that you’re going to be famous.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Julian, listen.” Yenna glared at him. Jaskier bit his lip, forcing himself to let her talk. “I won’t ask you to stop. I will ask you not to get involved on your own anymore. Keep fighting with The Witcher. That way I know you’ll be safe.”

“You want me to keep following the Witcher?” Jaskier felt his jaw drop. “Really, Yennefer, I would have thought you’d say the exact opposite of that.”

“If I were still in the game, I would. I’d say you could only go out with me. But I’m not. Jaskier, I used to get a call from you every other week because you got hurt bad enough that you needed healing. I haven’t gotten that call once in the last six months, and it’s thanks to that brute. I’d rather know that you’re only out with him. Especially with something as big as this album waiting for you in the light of day.” Yenna sighed and took his hand. “Promise me: no more solo fights.”

“I promise Yenna.” He’d hugged her before returning to his apartment where Geralt was waiting on the couch. And there was the bad note in the song of his life. It’s not that he and Geralt were fighting. Nothing that dramatic. Not yet at least, but something was going on. Geralt was hiding something. Jaskier had come to this conclusion about a month before when Geralt hadn’t been home after he finished his hero work. He waited for hours, falling asleep on the couch. Geralt had been there in the morning waking Jaskier with deep bags under his eyes. No amount of poking or prodding or begging had gotten the man to explain where he’d been. The next thing was the blood. Jaskier had come home after a hard hunt with the Witcher and seen the trail of blood leading to Geralt’s door. Jaskier was too exhausted to confront his friend that night and in the morning the blood was gone. Those were the big things. Little things kept happening too. Like the way Geralt would pay more attention when he watched Jaskier perform. Or how he’d shift out of Jaskier’s reach. Yes, Geralt was definitely hiding something and Jaskier wanted to know what.

“Hey, Jask,” Geralt said, not looking up from his book.

“Good evening Geralt,” Jaskier said brightly. He was going to confront Geralt. He really was. Or, he would have, if his phone hadn’t gone off right then with an alert. He might’ve still tried, if he hadn’t looked at it. It was a bad one. Nilfgard had taken over Cintra Cinema. At least seven armed men. Dozens of hostages. He needed to go. “I’ll see you in the morning. All the excitement has made me incredibly tired.” Geralt hummed in agreement and Jaskier went to his room. Then he let his power roll over him, shifting his clothes and features until no one could recognize him and he slipped out his window on to the fire escape.

_Geralt:_

It was a bad fight. It wasn’t the first time he was glad of the Bard’s help, but it was the first time he’d truly needed it. Even with the two of them, it had been bloody. Every ally the Bard had summoned had been wiped out just as quickly. But the hostages had been safe. Nilfgard too distracted with Geralt and the Bard’s creations. And they had won. They were both alive at the end of the fight while most of the Nilfgard soldier weren’t. But they were both hurt. Geralt wasn’t sure how many cuts he had. He knew that his left wrist was broken. He probably also had some broken ribs. It felt like he was bleeding from everywhere. The Bard was worse. How much worse, he couldn’t say. Their body shifted form too much to see the damage clearly. It didn’t help that they had taken off faster than ever. Falling onto a flying carpet and disappearing into the night sky. Geralt didn’t have a carpet.

He had to limp back to his car. He was still in his armor when he stumbled into his apartment. His eyes were still gold. His hair still white. His senses still elevated. It may not have been his wisest decision, but, without it, he wouldn’t have smelled the blood. He stumbled towards the smell and Jaskier’s open door. When he looked into the room, he saw the Bard falling in through the window. Their form solidifying into Jaskier. The man was barely conscious when he shoved his phone at the Witcher. _“Call Yen._ ” The Bard’s thousand voices fell from Jaskier’s lips. Geralt didn’t freeze, even as his world shattered. He made himself change back. Then he followed orders.

Yennefer emerged in from a portal in their living room moments later. Her violet eyes widened when she saw him, still in his armor covered in his own blood. “Where is he?” she hissed. Geralt pointed to Jaskier’s room. She stormed it with magic sparking from her hands to Jaskier’s injured form, stitching skin together in practiced movements. It should have been surprising. It also should have been expected. After all, the Bard has been around for years before he started following the Witcher. Yennefer had clearly been the one to keep him healthy after the fights. Maybe she had even been a super too at some point. But she was Jaskier’s agent. Jaskier’s best friend from childhood. Jaskier’s boss. Not his healer.

Geralt didn’t move. He didn’t take care of his own wounds. He couldn’t. All he could do was stare at Jaskier and wonder. Wonder how he missed it. Wonder if he would make it. Yennefer stayed beside him, pouring magic into him for almost an hour. Then she turned to Geralt. “Is he…” Geralt started. She bolted to her feet fast enough to quiet him.

“He’ll live, Witcher,” she snapped. “What the hell happened? He was supposed to be safe with you!”

“He is,” Geralt growled back.

“Obviously not! I haven’t seen him hurt this bad since his first time out! What happened?” Violet eyes bore holes into him.

“Nilfgard. They took the Cintra Cinema. He got the hostages out. I kept the soldiers busy while he did. Then we took the soldiers down. I didn’t see him get hurt. Even if he’d been my sole focus, I still wouldn’t have seen it cause of that ridiculous reality manipulation he does to conceal his identity. I didn’t know he was hurt. And I sure as hell didn’t know it was Jaskier. If I had…” Geralt sucked in air. He was shaking, but he wasn’t sure if it was from anger or blood loss.

“If you had?” Yennefer prompted.

“If I had, he wouldn’t have been anywhere near the main fight,” Geralt admitted. “I wouldn’t have let him risk himself like that.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten that choice,” she sighed. “Get the armor off so I can take care of you and get some sleep before stalling the press in the morning.” Geralt obeyed silently, trying to figure out what she meant.

_Jaskier:_

Jaskier could still taste Yenna’s magic when he woke up. Though it was very unclear to him how she had known to come help. He certainly hadn’t been conscious enough to unlock his phone when he climbed in his window. He had dreamed that he handed his phone to the Witcher so that he could call her. That couldn’t be the truth. When he opened his eyes, he knew it wasn’t the truth because Geralt was sitting on his bed. Geralt who had probably heard him come in. Geralt who had probably seen him pass out covered in his own blood. Geralt who had probably heard the layered voice he used as the Bard. Shit. If he wasn’t so sore, he might have tried to go down the fire escape again. “Geralt,” Jaskier said. Geralt startled, green eyes finding blue.

“You’re okay,” Geralt breathed. He squeezed one of Jaskier’s hands in his. “God, Jask, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier muttered. He pushed himself up and leaned back against the wall. “Did you, uh, I mean. Well, uh, what- how much did you see?” Geralt’s face darkened. Jaskier’s stomach dropped.

“You’re the Bard.”

Jaskier nodded. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. You called Yenna?”

“You asked me to.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. Yenna’s always been there to heal me after fights. I have to be honest; I haven’t needed her much for the past few years. Even less recently. I’m sure she was pissed that I went out the night before the release.” Jaskier tried to flash a smile, but the dark look was still on Geralt’s face. “Look, Geralt. Thank you for helping me last night. I don’t think I would have been okay without Yenna. And I really am sorry. About keeping it a secret. About how you found out.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed. “I understand. I’m just…glad you are alright.”

“Me too. It could have been far worse if I’d been on my own though. The Witcher was at the same fight. He took the brunt of the attacks.” Jaskier pulled his knees to his chest. “Anyways, I’m sure you have questions. After all, it’s not every day you find out you’re sharing a flat with a superhero.” Geralt frowned at him. “Uh, Geralt, I’m fairly good at understanding your taciturn way, but you do need to give me something to work with.”

“You…you didn’t see me.” Geralt’s frown deepened as he tilted his head.

“I didn’t see you when?” Jaskier mirrored his friend’s frown. Geralt didn’t answer. Instead he rose from the bed and looked away from it. “Geralt?”

“I need to show you something.” Geralt’s voice was quiet.

“Uh, Geralt, you’re, ah, you’re worrying me. I mean, you’ve just found out I’m a superhero, and now you won’t even look at me.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled. “Just shut up a second.” Jaskier’s mouth shut with a click. This was the something that was going on with Geralt. What he had been going to ask about last night. He watched Geralt’s shoulders rise and fall. Then something shifted. Dark hair faded to white. Tanned skin faded. When Geralt turned around again, yellow cat eyes scanned him.

“You’re the Witcher,” Jaskier breathed. Geralt nodded. They just stared at each other for a moment. Then Geralt turned away. Jaskier could feel his powers leaking around him, but he wasn’t able to real them in at that moment. He was sure his sheets had changed color and material at least twelve times before he found his voice again. “I suppose I should have guessed you were a hero too.” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What I meant was I noticed that something was going on. Things I guess I hadn’t noticed before because I was doing them too. But the last few months I was only going out as the Bard with the Witcher, and I was home more. So, I noticed things I hadn’t been noticing. Like the blood trail when I got back last week. Or how the days you’d pull away were days after you got hurt as the Witcher.” Jaskier smirked, but it disappeared quickly. “Oh God. You were hurt last night too.”

“I’m fine Jaskier. Yennefer healed me when she finished with you.” Geralt still hadn’t moved. His gaze was fixed on the floor. Jaskier pulled his powers in, forcing the colors and materials to stop shifting around him. Then he pushed himself off the bed into Geralt’s space.

Jaskier reached up and cupped his friend’s face gently with his hand. “Geralt, look at me.” He tilted the Witcher’s chin up so that Golden eyes were fixed on blue. “Thank you. You saved my life last night. Actually, you’ve protected me every time I’ve been out for the past six months. So, thank you.” He smiled again. Geralt stared for another moment before giving a stiff nod. Then he pulled back and left Jaskier standing alone in his room. Jaskier sighed. “I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t that.”

_Geralt:_

Geralt paced his room. He was still shifted. He could still hear Jaskier moving around the flat, humming and muttering to himself, and he couldn’t take it. For over a year, the only thing keeping him from kissing Jaskier was the Witcher. He couldn’t put Jaskier at risk like that. Except Jaskier had always been at risk. Because Jaskier was a super too. Because Jaskier was the Bard, who he’d been working with for months. With Jaskier clearly unhurt now, it was far harder to shove down the dissonance in his head. Jaskier, lovely, beautiful, talented Jaskier was the brash, indescribable, ridiculous Bard. He had seen the Bard bash someone’s head in with a lute on several occasions. How could that be the same person who curled up against him watching Project Runway chattering about ‘pretty colors’? It just didn’t add up in Geralt’s mind. Then again, it was there plain as day. The way it seemed like Jaskier changed clothes randomly throughout the day. How tense he was when he was singing, like he was nervous, but really, he must have been holding his powers back. The way the apartment would rearrange itself when Jaskier was stressed. It was all there. Geralt should have seen it. He should have known.

But that didn’t matter now. Because now he does know. Jaskier is the Bard. Any arguments that not telling him his last secret was for protection were gone. Jaskier could protect himself. Any danger that being the Witcher brought was danger Jaskier was already in. There was no reason to keep it to himself. Not anymore. Not now he _knows_. It was better than that. He didn’t just know who the Bard was. He knew that the Bard wouldn’t reject him. Geralt may not be the most observant person, but the Witcher was. He had seen the way the Bard watched him. He hadn’t understood why, but it was clear that the Bard liked him. There was already a point in his favor. It was enough. It had to be. Geralt opened his door, fully intending to go back to Jaskier’s room. But then he heard the front door slam shut. His phone vibrated with a text as Yennefer’s words came back to him. She was stalling the press. Now that Jaskier was ok, she needed him. Geralt groaned as he collapsed on his bed. Why was this so damn hard?

_Jaskier:_

“Yenna!” Jaskier exclaimed giving her a hug. She pushed him off.

“Don’t ‘Yenna’ me, Jaskier. What the fuck were you thinking last night? If Geralt hadn’t called me, you could have died.” Yennefer glared at him. “And why the fuck didn’t you tell me that Geralt was the Witcher?”

“I didn’t know until I woke up this morning, Yenna,” Jaskier sighed. “And I didn’t mean to get hurt, but there were a good number of guys with gun and knives and other assorted weapons and I am not perfect.”

“Maybe if you’d use an actual weapon instead of an enchanted lute,” Yenna growled.

“Enchanted it the wrong word. You enchant things. My lute is just exceptionally strong.”

“Jaskier.”

“Yenna, I’m sorry. Honestly. I wouldn’t have gone out, but it was bad. They had dozens of people trapped. I couldn’t just ignore it. Not when I could help. The only people who got hurt were me and Geralt. Well, and Nilfgardians, but they were the ones doing the hurting, so I don’t really care too much about them being hurt.” Jaskier shrugged. “Thank you for healing us, Yenna. I won’t promise you that it won’t happen again, because it very well could, but thank you all the same.”

“Jaskier,” Yenna sighed, the anger draining out of her voice. “I don’t want to see you hurt, but I know I can’t stop you. Just promise me that next time, you won’t hold back.”

“I did not-“

“Jask, you did. I saw the security footage from Cintra. Promise me you won’t hold back just to let your boyfriend look good and then we can move on.” Yenna crossed her arms.

“I promise, but he’s not my boyfriend,” Jaskier pouted.

“He should be. I mean, Geralt’s had a crush on you since you moved in together and you’ve been crushing on the Witcher for months.” It was said with a snort. Yenna was walking away, but Jaskier was frozen in place. She turned back to him when she noticed he wasn’t following. She raised a perfect eyebrow. “You didn’t know that he has a crush on you,” she decided.

Jaskier jolted. “Uh no. Geralt doesn’t have a crush on me. He barely tolerates me as a friend he can’t…” Jaskier’s voice trailed off.

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Freak out later. You have an interview that you are already an hour late for. Choose a shirt and come on.”

_Geralt:_

Geralt watched Jaskier’s interview on his phone, hunched over the counter at Kaer Morhen. Jaskier smiled and laughed. He looked perfect. Nothing like he should have looked after the wounds from last night. There was no sign that anything was wrong. A book slammed on the counter made him jump. He looked up with a snarl only to see his brothers smirking at him. “What’s got you all riled up, Geralt?” Lambert asked with a smirk.

“Fuck off,” Geralt growled back, but he was smirking too. Before he could put it away, Eskel snatched his phone.

“Hey, isn’t this your flatmate? What’s he doing on tv?” Eskel asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Didn’t you hear? He got a record deal. His album came out today,” Lambert said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Geralt frowned at them. They knew all of that. He’d told them about it. Hell, Jaskier had told them about it. What were they playing at? “Have you heard it yet?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d do the songbird a favor and preordered it. Listened to it at the gym this morning.” Eskel looked pointedly at Geralt. “I didn’t know your songbird was in on the secret.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Geralt snapped.

“You mean you haven’t heard it yet?” Lambert’s grin was wicked. “I mean, sure, you had a busy night, but I thought the little bird’s new hit would be more interesting. Especially since you’re in love with him.” Eskel elbowed him.

“Leave off. Just, listen to it Geralt. If you didn’t tell him yet, I’d say he’s figured it out. Or he’s been watching you.” Eskel left the book and phone on the counter and dragged Lambert out of the store. Confused, Geralt did what Eskel said. He’d preordered the album too, so he just pulled it up and started listening.

_Jaskier:_

It had been a busy day and Jaskier was absolutely exhausted. There had been two interviews and a launch party that lasted almost four hours. He hadn’t made it back to the flat until almost midnight, but Geralt wasn’t there. Knowing what he did now, he knew where Geralt was. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t have the energy to go see what the Witcher was fighting. Instead, he let himself collapse on the couch and put on She-Ra, deciding to wait up. The next thing he knew, he was being gently roused. Geralt was squatting in front of the couch, an amused look in his green eyes. He held out a cup of coffee to Jaskier. Jaskier took it as he sat up with a yawn. “G’ morning,” Jaskier muttered.

“Come on. I made breakfast,” Geralt said. He rose and went to the kitchen. Jaskier followed absently, still half asleep, but careful to keep his coffee steady. He sat down at the table and an omelet was set in front of him. Geralt sat beside him, watching him and sipping his own coffee.

“What’s the occasion?” Jaskier said when he felt awake enough for conversation. He had already eaten most of his omelet and was on his second cup of coffee.

Geralt looked down at the table. “I wanted to talk.”

“You didn’t have to make me breakfast to talk, Geralt,” Jaskier laughed. “But I’m not going to argue with good food. What did you want to talk about?”

“I listened to your album.” Geralt looked back at Jaskier. Jaskier felt his stomach drop.

“R-really?” Jaskier hand shook a little as he took another gulp of coffee. Geralt nodded. “What, uh, what did you think?”

“It was about me.”

“Uh, yes I suppose it was. Well, most of it anyway.” Jaskier rubbed his neck. His cheeks were on fire.

“Jaskier, do you like me?” Geralt’s face was a stoic mask.

“Uh, well, at first it was just liking, but now that I know, well, who you are when you’re not the Witcher, I suppose it’s a bit more than that.” Jaskier couldn’t look up. “I might even say that I, well, I love you. I hope that’s okay.” His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might literally escape his chest. He could feel his powers leaking out, changing shapes and colors and material. A strong hand slipped under his chin, making him look up. Before he could react, Geralt leaned forward sealing their lips together. It wasn’t his best kiss, but, at the same time, it was. The angle was awkward. Jaskier was still holding his coffee. He hadn’t brushed his teeth yet. But it was sweet and gentle and full of passion. And best of all, it was Geralt. They broke apart gasping.

“I love you too.”

**_EPILOGUE: 1 YEAR LATER_ **

_Geralt:_

The crowd was huge. Geralt could hear it from miles away. He slammed the last Warg against the wall knocking him out. He shifted back quickly, shedding armor haphazardly in the backseat of his car. He was late, but if he rushed, he’d be there before the show was over. He had to be. He sped towards the venue. When he pulled up at the backstage entrance, Yennefer was waiting for him. She glared at him with violet eyes. “You’re late,” she said. He rolled his eyes. “And do not give me that hero-work excuse. I saw his notification. I know it was just a couple over-confident Wargs.”

“What were you doing with his phone?” Geralt growled.

“I don’t let him have it before shows so that I don’t have to wrangle him out of a fight when he’s supposed to be singing.” She folded her arms. “Now come on, or you’ll miss your chance.” She smirked. “You brothers’ have been driving me crazy getting this set up.”

“I thought you were on our side?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“If it goes wrong, I’m just the reluctant accomplice who got you the backstage pass.” She dropped said pass in his hands. “Green rooms that way. And Geralt,” she paused, glancing the opposite direction, towards the stage. “Good luck.” Geralt nodded. He slipped into the green room. Eskel and Lambert were already there.

“Hey, we thought you were gonna mess this up,” Lambert said. “Please tell me you didn’t go Witchering tonight.”

“Of course, he did, Lambert,” Eskel sighed. “The poor brute can’t handle something this intense without blowing off some steam beforehand.”

“Hey,” Geralt snapped.

“We’re just kidding, Geralt,” Eskel chuckled. “Heads up.” He threw a small box to Geralt. “Everything’s ready to go. He should be on his last song now.” Lambert and Eskel headed out, both clapping him on the back.

“Good luck, brother,” Lambert said. Eskel nodded. A few minutes later, Jaskier came crashing in the room, covered in glitter and sweat. He was beaming like he always was after a good show. Geralt couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“Geralt!” Jaskier chimed. They shared a quick kiss before Geralt pulled back. “I know you don’t like the crowds with your senses and all, but I’m glad you still come to hear me play.”

“Jaskier, there’s something I need to ask.”   
“Can it wait love?” Jaskier turned away and pulled out some wipes, starting to wipe his make-up off. “I love a good show, but I’m exhausted. And when you want to talk about something, it’s normally something that takes a bit of focus. The last time you needed to ask me something I had to explain exactly how my powers work and I don’t have the energy for that right now dear heart. Can’t we just cuddle?”

Geralt knelt down and cleared his throat. “Jaskier,” he started.

Jaskier still had his back turned, focused on getting the majority of the glitter off his face. “I know it takes you a while to build up to having a full conversation. We can talk while we cuddle if you really need to.”

“Jaskier, stop talking,” Geralt sighed. Jaskier turned around and froze when he saw Geralt on one knee in front of him. Geralt held out the little box Eskel had tossed him.

“Geralt?” Jaskier breathed. Before Geralt could open his mouth, Jaskier had snatched the box and opened it. He gasped at the ring inside. It was small and silver with a blue gem. Geralt watched Jaskier’s powers alter world: the color of the carpet, the shape of the room, their clothing, Jaskier’s hair, everything except the ring. “Yes.” Jaskier dropped the box and slid the ring on his own finger. Then he flung himself at Geralt, kissing him with all of his energy. When the broke apart, Geralt smiled at him. “Yes. Of course, I will.”

“I didn’t even ask yet.”

“Then ask you big oaf.”

“Will you marry me?”


End file.
